The World of Delusion
by Yoshimaster
Summary: Part two of The Dream Caster. After a failed confrontation with Karod, Micah descends into the World of Delusion, the dream world, where he learns that looks can be deceiving. Very deceiving...
1. Recalled to Life

Micah came to in a soft bed. It was very comfortable, and for a moment he thought that the people of Kakariko had taken him in and cared for him while he was out.  
  
He opened his eyes, and realized that it was dark out. So he closed them again, but for some reason couldn't get to sleep. He lay there, pondering over the day before. Or was it the day before? Had he been asleep longer than that? Link had told him stories about people put in deep sleeps by wizards and witches, and Micah wondered if he had been in one such sleep.  
  
It was quiet. So quiet, in fact, that Micah began to get worried. Then suddenly, it hit him... Belle was gone! Someone had taken his guardian fairy! Micah quickly sat up, and just as quickly hit his head on a low wooden surface.  
  
Micah groaned, rubbed his head. What was this? Had he been put in a cheap bunk bed? He thought over the rules of hospitality etiquette he had learned in his lifetime, and for some reason, putting a sleeping stranger in the bottom bunk of a bed seemed a little rude.  
  
Deciding that he didn't like this situation, Micah moved his body so he could roll out of bed. He felt a wooden surface on his left... and on his right. In a sudden search of terror, Micah kicked the end of his bunk, and bumped his head against the front. Both were blocked by wooden surfaces. The realization was clear and ghastly... he was inside a coffin.  
  
No sooner had the realization come than he felt the cushions below soak in a wet substance. The liquid was rising quickly. It was too thick to be water... and it had a pungent odor. Blood.  
  
Micah slammed his fists against the lid, screaming at the top of his lungs. The blood continued to rise. In a frantic bid for freedom, his brain fired signals to every muscle in his body. His limbs were flying, assaulting the unyielding barriers that held him to his doom. He slammed his fists on the side, splashing blood on his face, and his eyes were wide with terror, seeing nothing but darkness.  
  
As the blood crept close to his mouth, he could no longer afford to scream. He sealed his lips, refusing the grim liquid entrance to his mouth. The level continued to rise. Micah pressed his nose, the only dry spot left on his body, against the lid of the coffin, hyperventilating and nearing blackout. He squeezed his eyes shut and held his hands against the lid as the blood touched the top.  
  
An arm shot through the lid, forcing splinters of wood and splashes of blood out into the world. The arm sought Micah's, and he gladly took it. The strong arm pulled Micah from the blood filled coffin and set him on solid ground.  
  
Micah curled into a ball, coughing and crying. His limbs shook, and his breaths came shakily, interrupted by coughs and deep-throated sobs.  
  
Micah hesitantly looked up to his savior. The man, young and muscle- bound, regarded him with a stern and steady eye. Micah looked at the coffin. It sat in the middle of a dirt field. There seemed to be no source for the blood, but Micah no longer cared for logical explanation.  
  
Five minutes later, the man finally moved. He held out his arm, fist closed. "Your fairy," he said, opening his fist.  
  
Out flew a bright, pink flurry of wings, Belle. She looked at Micah. Concerned, she said, "What happened to you?"  
  
Micah looked over his blood-soaked body, and then nodded toward the smashed coffin. Belle seemed to understand.  
  
"Well, you're safe," she said, in a tone surprisingly mature for someone like her. She fluttered over to him, and floated above his head. "That's all that matters."  
  
"You should have paid heed to my words, Micah," the man said. "Fortunately for you and your fairy, I never had much faith in such a rash young boy."  
  
Micah shook his head. "Wh... wh.... who arrrre y...youuuu?" he stuttered, through chattering teeth.  
  
"You know who I am," said the man, raising an eyebrow. He pursed his lips and played a familiar tune.  
  
"Gardorous," Micah whispered.  
  
"I am Gardorous," said the man, "But I'm not the way you've seen me before. You are in the World of Delusion, where nothing is, as it seems. I tried explaining this to you, but nothing could have prepared you for your entrance. And what an entrance it was, eh?"  
  
Gardorous gently kicked the coffin, and the whole structural integrity literally crumbled. The blood poured out, which Micah scrambled to avoid. Gardorous stamped it, and it turned to dust.  
  
"There are illusions everywhere," Gardorous continued. "But they will still seem like reality as long as you think they are. If you knew the coffin was an illusion, as well as the blood, you would have had no problem getting out."  
  
"It's an illusion?" Micah said. "But my clothes..." He looked down again, and to his astonishment, his clothes were completely dry. There was not a trace of the previous incident on him.  
  
"I have good news and bad news for you," said Gardorous. "Unfortunately, there is more bad than good. The good news is, here, you finally have a chance to stop Karod. The bad news is, it will not be easy for you to get out. You have no magical powers of any kind. Even I cannot aid you in your escape. This could easily be a one-way trip."  
  
Micah swallowed hard. "What else?" he said.  
  
"You cannot destroy Karod as you are," said Gardorous. "You will need the Sword of Illusion. It's a legendary sword that allows the user to create countless illusions to fool his enemy, and one that shatters any illusions made for him. It's the only chance you have. I cannot tell you where it is... this is the World of Delusion, and as I've said before, it is always changing. What I can tell you is that it is in the direction of the sun, the only continual object in this world."  
  
"The sun?" Micah said. "But it's dark out." He looked around, and saw the sun... to the north. It was bright, but its light did not spread. It remained as a ball of white in the wrong part of the sky.  
  
"The rest is up to you, Micah," said Gardorous. "I leave you with a final word of advice: travel only in the day. Remember, this is a dream world. At night, the dirt field transforms into a metropolis of manifestations. And people in their dreams do not like to be disturbed by inconsistent elements such as yourself."  
  
"How will I know when it is night?" said Micah, glancing over at the unnatural sun.  
  
"You will know. Goodbye... for now." A gust of wind picked up dust and swirled it about, and when it subsided, Gardorous was gone. In his wake was a treasure chest. Micah pushed up the lid, and was disappointed to see that the chest only held a burlap bag full of bread and dried fruit, and a water bottle.  
  
"Aw, I was hoping for pirate's treasure or something," he said, unhappily picking up the items.  
  
"Treasure won't keep you alive over the next few days," Belle pointed out.  
  
He slung the bag over his shoulder, under the Deku Shield (his only remaining shield), and looked at the world around him. It was unbearably desolate. There were miles and miles of lifeless dirt, yet it felt as if he was in a small room. His voice wasn't carried, and the sun's heat was a little over room temperature.  
  
With a sigh, he said, "Well, here we go." And they were off. 


	2. Regal Fantasy

The first few hours of the trip were easy. Micah encountered nothing as he walked, so keeping his eye on the unmoving sun was a simple task. When he stopped to rest, he ate heartily, until Belle reminded him that the bag and the bottle were the only provisions he had. So, from that point forward, he ate and drank sparingly. He kept a good pace for several hours, until something happened.  
  
Micah was walking at a steady speed, when suddenly the ground became caked with polished marble, and around the marble sprung brick walls, decorated with tapestries and stain-glassed windows. The place continued to transform, becoming more and more elegant until he was inside the throne room of the Hyrule King.  
  
Guards were lined up along the central red carpet, and although he stood in the middle of the room, they took no notice of him. The doors to the room were flung wide open. Trumpets sounded, and the guards chanted, "Hail, Queen of Hyrule! Long live the Queen!"  
  
Micah raised an eyebrow. He didn't know much about Hyrule, but he did know that the leader of the mighty kingdom was a man. He quickly hid behind the throne.  
  
He was in for another surprise, for the "queen" was a young Hylian girl, no older than eight. She was dressed in purple silk robes, and on her head, she wore a crown full of sparkling jewels. She walked slowly along the red carpet, holding her head high. When she reached her beautiful throne, she sat upon it and began barking orders.  
  
Micah was definitely curious. He wished to speak with the queen, since he hadn't spoken with another person since Gardorous left. He timidly crept out from behind the throne and stood before her. When the girl saw him, her reaction was far from Micah's expectations.  
  
She drew a staff, wrought of steel and decorated with jewels. With a shout she leapt in the air, staff raised high, and came down on Micah's head. He swiftly drew his sword and met the staff halfway, deflecting the blow. Her staff hit the marble to her left, and in the moment Micah countered the attack, jabbing forward with his sword. The girl ducked, and pushed the staff forward, sweeping Micah off his feet. He landed on his back and the girl was upon him, staff upraised. Micah rolled away as the staff came down; its sharp point put a dent in the marble. Micah got to his feet, and glanced at the guards, stationed at their post and paying no attention to the battle next to them.  
  
The girl twirled the weapon above her head, with grace and dexterity impossible for such a young child. She swung at him with the staff, which Micah countered with his sword. The girl drew back and swiftly jabbed with the other end. Micah brought up his shield, and the point lodged itself in the wood. She jerked, but the staff was stuck, and at that moment, Micah brought his sword up between her hands and knocked the staff away.  
  
He brought his sword to her neck, poised in a victory pose he had practiced for years. The girl looked at the blade before her, her face twisted in a snarl. She whistled, and back flipped into her throne.  
  
The wall behind the throne, decorated with tapestries and stained-glass depicting Hyrule's ancient heroes, exploded with tremendous force. Micah was blown to the other side of the room, along with shards of glass and chunks of brick.  
  
Micah shakily raised his head. Plodding through the debris was a three- headed dragon. He got to his feet, wiping away pieces of glass that stuck to his clothing. His adversary was many times his height, and each of its three heads roared ferociously. Micah trembled, looking at the girl seated in the throne. She laughed. Micah looked up at the hole in the wall, and through it he could see the misplaced sun. Finally, he understood.  
  
Holding out his sword, Micah called, "Have at you, then!"  
  
The dragon charged, stomping guards flat in its wake, who did nothing to protect themselves. Micah ran forward. The dragon raised its hand, armed with razor-sharp claws, and brought it down. Micah dived under it, and the claw hit the floor, sending cracks through the marble. Micah rolled between the dragon's legs and drove his sword up, into the dragon's quivering belly. The dragon roared in anger. Micah stabbed again, and again, until the blood poured freely onto the floor. The dragon roared again, this time out of pain. Micah stabbed its left leg behind the knee. With a final roar, the dragon fell over, bringing the west wall down with it.  
  
Micah sheathed his sword and looked at the girl. She stared at the ruined dream around her; the devastated architecture, the slain guards, the marble floor cracked and stained with blood. She looked up at Micah, and it seemed to him that she was ready for a second fight.  
  
The throne room disappeared in a flash. Somewhere, in the other world, the girl who dreamed to be queen of Hyrule was being awakened. She muttered, "What?" and was gone. Once again, Micah was alone in the World of Delusion.  
  
Micah trudged along, but was worn out after the overwhelming battle. He soon realized that the sun was going out. At first it was bright white, but now it was a sort of dim gray. Micah had a feeling that this was what signaled the coming of night. He took his sword and shield, and with these as makeshift tools, dug himself a hole to hide in for the night. As he was getting ready to get to sleep, he heard a voice behind him.  
  
"She put up quite a fight, didn't she?" It was Gardorous. He stood behind Micah with his arms across his chest.  
  
"Yes," said Micah. He sat with his legs crossed, looking at Gardorous. "But why was she even here? It wasn't night back then."  
  
"I told you to travel in the day because most people sleep during the night," said Gardorous, "And that way, you'd encounter less dreams. But there are exceptions. People take naps, or may doze off. Sometimes these periods of rest last long enough to bring on dreams, and so these people are taken to the World of Delusion for short periods of time. Luckily for you, the girl's dream didn't last very long.  
  
"You seem to be doing well for yourself, Micah. You knew that the dragon she summoned was an illusion, and therefore, won easily. This day's end may have been grim otherwise. You're getting better."  
  
"Am I?" said Micah. "Then why have you come?"  
  
"Do not be so eager to see the last of me," said Gardorous with a laugh. "I have come to tell you that this will soon be so. I have to leave this world, Micah. Karod has discovered my presence, and if I stay any longer, both our lives will be in jeopardy.  
  
"Before I go, I have some things to do. First, you must know that, when Karod finds out that you evaded his death trap, he will do everything in his power to keep you from reaching the Sword of Illusion. He knows that, since you have made it this far, you must be the One destined to hold the sacred sword. He has suspected it since the beginning."  
  
Micah was puzzled. Gardorous noticed.  
  
"The Sword of Illusion," said Gardorous, "Which I have mentioned to you before, can only be wielded by the One destined to do so."  
  
Micah nodded. But as Gardorous spoke, a question bothered him in his mind. "Do you think I am the One?" he said.  
  
Gardorous was silent for a while. Finally he said, "Yes. I do. As did the Great Deku Tree. However, I cannot know for certain. It is up to you to find out."  
  
"And what happens if I'm not?" said Micah.  
  
Gardorous sighed. "As I said before, only the One can take the sword," he said. "All others are kept here, as mindless banshees, until the One takes the sword and breaks the curse. Karod is the only one who has tried to take the sword, and made it back as himself. When he learned that only one person could take it, he built a great fortress around the sword to keep it safe. Which brings me to my next point..."  
  
From under his cloak, Gardorous brought a looking glass, designed with purple and red borders. He handed it to Micah. "To make it to the sword, you'll need this," he said. "This is the Lens of Truth. When you are unsure of whether something is an illusion or not, use this lens. It will reveal the world as it really is." He looked around him. "In the World of Delusion, that is quite an understatement. Some illusions, especially Karod's, are immune to the lens. But it's your best chance."  
  
Micah took the lens, examining it carefully, and then placed it in his bag.  
  
Gardorous took out his ocarina. "Life is full of mistakes," he said. "I'm sure you have made a choice that you came to regret. A choice that, if you only could, you would change." Micah nodded solemnly. Gardorous brought the instrument to his lips and said, "While in this world, play this song... the Eulogy of Dreams... to go back and have the chance to change a choice you wish you never made." Gardorous played a long, somber song. When he finished, Gardorous said, "Now you try."  
  
Micah took out Link's Forest Ocarina. After several tries, he successfully played the song.  
  
Gardorous stood up. "Goodbye, Micah," he whispered. "If Fate wills it, I shall see you again." He closed his eyes, as if falling asleep, and faded away.  
  
Micah curled up inside the hole, taken by fear and doubt. Belle came near, and the familiar flutter of her wings brought comfort. He closed his eyes, and slept. 


	3. Thirstless Notes

The next day, he was awakened by Belle, who tugged at the tufts of hair springing out from under his hat. Frantically, she cried, "Wake up, Micah! C'mon, wake up!"  
  
Micah shooed her away. Groggily, he rubbed his eyes, and stretched out his sore legs. He clutched the ground, but instead of coming up with dry dirt, Micah came up with handfuls of sand.  
  
He opened his eyes and shut them immediately, for the sun's brilliant rays reflected off the bright sand around him. Shielding his eyes, Micah looked around. He was in a desert.  
  
He jumped to his feet, alarmed. "How did this happen?" he cried.  
  
"I don't know!" said Belle. "It was like this when I woke up."  
  
The heat was unbearable, unlike the pleasant, room temperature of the day before. Micah opened his water bottle. To his dismay, it was only a quarter full.  
  
"Let's get going," he said.  
  
The heat became worse as the day went on. At noon, the sun shone above him. He became worried, thinking that he had no sense of direction now. Then, looking closely at the blue sky, he could see the "real" sun, still in the north sky, and still distributing neither light nor heat.  
  
"Karod," he muttered.  
  
Micah did his best to reserve the water, but the dunes he was forced to cross were sapping his strength. He needed the water. By the afternoon, his water bottle was empty, but his thirst was no more quenched.  
  
Beads of sweat ran down his bangs, obstructing his view. His eyes couldn't stay focused, and his mouth hung open, his swollen tongue drooping like a dog's. Belle, being a fairy, had excellent stamina, but eventually, she was too tired to fly. She hid in Micah's pocket the rest of the day. Micah worried that, by nightfall, he wouldn't have the strength to dig a shelter. By five in the evening, he had abandoned all hope of lasting that long.  
  
"Belle," he mumbled. "I... I think... I'm... beginning to... to believe... that... legend."  
  
He collapsed, with his face landing on the hot sand, but without the strength to move. He closed his eyes. The desert had defeated him.  
  
It was less than five minutes later when he was awakened by music. Somewhere in the distance, someone was playing a song. It was a lovely tune, but was being played too fast. The song came closer.  
  
Micah sat up. Shimmering in the heat was a man with a music box, whirling the crank, producing the speedy tune. Reflecting on the confrontation with the girl the day before, Micah crawled along the sand, desperate not to cross paths with another dreamer and incur a fight. But the music man appeared to already be angry. He held a continual scowl on his face as he whirled the crank in anger.  
  
"What is it?" Micah croaked, when the man was close enough to hear his quiet voice.  
  
The man looked at him, and stopped playing. "I was playing my music," he said, "Walking down the street, when suddenly, children began to follow me, laughing as I played my song. Soon, every child in town was following me. I was beaming, for I had waited for that moment all my life; to bring happiness to the children of the world through my music."  
  
"What happened?" said Micah.  
  
The music man spread his arms wide. "This happened!" he shouted. "The sand blew from the west, covering all the land in a desert. The children were blown away in the wind. Now, I am nothing!"  
  
Micah held out his water bottle. "I will help get rid of the desert," he whispered, "And bring back your children... if you will give me some water."  
  
The man shook his head, saying, "I am sorry, but I have none. Though I do have the notes to a song that may prove useful. Do you have an instrument?"  
  
"I do," said Micah, bringing out the ocarina.  
  
The man handed him the notes. "It is the Song of Storms," he said. He walked away, whirling the crank of the music box as he went.  
  
Micah held the ocarina to his cracked lips and played the song. As he played, storm clouds formed above. Micah lowered the instrument and gaped in awe.  
  
"Don't stop!" cried Belle. "Keep going!"  
  
He continued the song. Soon, drops of rain began to hit the sand. Then the storm was unleashed. Winds picked up, the clouds roared with thunder, and the rain poured like a monsoon.  
  
Micah opened his mouth to the sky, allowing the drops of water to fall onto his parched tongue. Once quenched, he filled his water bottle to the brim. He pulled Belle out of his pocket, and she drank the water, too. She quickly dived back into his pocket. Her wings were heavy with water.  
  
"It's nice to have some water," she said. "But let's hope we don't drown in it." The downpour ceased several minutes later.  
  
"We have survived the desert," said Micah. "But Karod will not let us go so easily. There will be another obstacle... I know it."  
  
By nightfall, the desert had disappeared, and the flat dirt plain showed no sign of the day before. Micah dug his shelter, and as he lay curled up inside, he watched the dreams around him, rising and fading away. Eventually, he too fell asleep. That night, he dreamed that he was walking along a plain, dirt field, and he came upon a young Kokiri boy and his fairy, curled together inside a hole in the ground. He continued along the dirt field, and soon, he could see a building, standing alone in the distance. As his dream faded away, he knew that he was very close to his goal, and that the next day would be an epic one indeed. 


	4. Drowned Desert

Micah awoke with his face touching a hot surface. He knew right away that Karod had once again manifested a desert to hinder him. He sat up, and though he was partially correct, he couldn't prepare himself for what he saw.  
  
The dirt field had been turned to solid rock, and twisted spikes of stone stuck out everywhere, as if a coral reef had been drained and turned to stone. From this bed of rocky thorns rose high, broad walls of the same twisted rock, so that a sinister labyrinth of jagged rocks extended all the way to the horizon.  
  
Belle watched Micah's face become drawn from despair. "Well," she said. "At least we don't have to worry about water anymore."  
  
Micah brought his food bag down and sorted through its contents. He sighed, saying, "No, it's not the water we'll have to worry about."  
  
Kokiri boots were known for being thick and durable, but after several miles of walking across the barbed desert-floor, his boots were full of holes, and his feet were beginning to feel cuts. He found himself tearing away material from the straps to patch up the soles. By midday, he had traveled less than a third of the distance he had planned. He could see the fortress, but it was still many miles off.  
  
At one point, after climbing an otherwise impassible rise in the surface level, he lost his footing and tumbled all the way down the other side. He sat up wearily, coughing up dust, and checking his body for injuries. None were severe, but he was now covered in cuts and scrapes. Belle asked how he was.  
  
"I'm fine," he grumbled, coughing. "Let's rest here."  
  
He ate a bit of the last wafer of bread and gave some to Belle. He played the Song of Storms. The sky darkened, and it began to rain. Yet no matter how much he needed the nourishment, the heavy downpour brought stinging pain to his numerous wounds. Micah sat under an outcropping of a cliff, and there, he waited for the storm to end.  
  
Fifteen minutes passed. He decided that, no matter how much the rain hurt, precious time was passing, and he needed to be on his way. He came out of the shelter and continued. The road was even tougher now that the rain made the rocks slippery. Micah and Belle pressed on.  
  
An hour passed. The rain continued to pour. Belle, who was hiding in Micah's pocket again, asked, "Micah, did you play the song differently this time?"  
  
"No," he said. "Why?"  
  
"Because," said Belle. "I think you broke the sky."  
  
Micah laughed, but suddenly, he realized that the rain had been going on far longer than it had even gone.  
  
As he wondered, Micah slipped, tumbling down a thorny slope into a pool of water. He got to his feet, looked around, and gasped. The pool covered the entire desert.  
  
"Oh, no," he whispered.  
  
"What?" said Belle.  
  
"It's Karod."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"He's bringing on a flood."  
  
Belle peeked out of the pocket. The storm, showing no sign of stopping, continued to pour. The rocky desert could not absorb the water. The water level was rising.  
  
"We've got to get to higher land!" cried Micah, wading frantically through the water.  
  
He looked around, seeking a cliff, but there were none, and he thought of how ironic it was that there were no cliffs when he needed them. He moved on northward, going faster than he had ever gone on the dirt field, ignoring the sharp rocks that harmed his feet. Through the sheets of rain and heavy murk, the land showed no signs of change, but still he pressed on.  
  
Soon, he saw a sheer cliff, which he considered non-climbable but sought to attempt it anyway. The water was so deep; he could no longer walk but had to swim. The winds grew stronger, and the unseen wizard manifested oceanic currents that swept him this way and that. Still he kept his eye on his goal, this single piece of land that could save him from the flood.  
  
He was close, but the current suddenly reversed, sending him crashing into the rock face. He could feel his skin tear and the cartilage break, but he ignored the pain. The current pulled him away from the wall, and continued to dash him against the cliff. Micah turned himself around so the shield on his back took the worst beating, and as the riptide began to suck him away, he wrapped his fingers tightly around a spike in the cliff. His arms burned with exertion, but still he held on. The current stopped its backward tug, and Micah quickly scrambled to bring his body out of the water.  
  
He found himself hugging the jagged cliff face like a spider. He looked upward with a shudder. The climb would be difficult, and very long. He brought up his left arm, grabbed a spike, and continued with his left foot, and then his right arm. Slowly, he climbed upward. The winds tugged at his clothing, and at one point nearly tore him away. But he recovered, and continued the ascent.  
  
Finally, he reached the top. By this time, the water level had come to the halfway point on the cliff. Micah wondered if he could have just treaded water while waiting for the level to rise, but he was far too tired to care. He lay with his back on the rocks, his lungs heaving. He drifted off to sleep.  
  
When he awoke, his face was again dry and warm. As he lay with his eyes closed, he wondered if it was just a dream, but the fact that his injuries still existed reminded him that it was not. He opened his eyes. It was morning, apparently of the next day. He sat up, and winced at the pain. The foreboding desert still existed around him, but the water was gone, and the sky was clear.  
  
Hunger tore at his belly. He brought down his food bag, but the water had washed everything out.  
  
He sat cross-legged on the cliff. His injuries brought back vivid memories of the trek across the desert, and then the swim for survival. He put his hands on his face, which had struck the cliff. His nose was broken, but that was the most severe injury he had taken. He shook his head, surprised at his own stamina. If he had told himself, two years ago, this tale, he would have cringed with terror. But there he was, and the tale wasn't quite over yet.  
  
He listened to the howling wind echo through twisted, curved sheets of rock. He began to realize that something was wrong.  
  
He looked around, and patted his pocket. Suddenly, he began a frantic search, examining the rocks and peering down the cliff. He was filled with dread, and called, "Belle! Belle!"  
  
There was no answer. Neither the fairy's annoying voice or the continuous flap of tiny wings filled the void in his atmosphere. Micah held his head in his hands, and for a moment he wondered if one could die in this world, but abandoned the wonder because he knew the answer.  
  
Sobs welled up in his throat. He cried uncontrollably, removing his cap and tearing at his hair. Eyes moist with tears, he looked with curiosity at the cliff before him. Suddenly, the idea didn't sound so bad. The quest seemed so preposterous now, and the notion that he would complete it alone was out the window. He crept closer to the cliff.  
  
"Good morning!" came a voice.  
  
Micah swept around. "Belle!" he shouted, in a mix of joy and anger. "Where did you run off to?"  
  
"I got a look around," said his fairy, coming close to him. Then she added, "Boy, you look terrible. You took quite a beating. Good thing you did, though, or else both of us would be drowned carrion for the vultures right now."  
  
Micah frowned. "Isn't there a law or something that says you can't abandon me?" he growled.  
  
"I don't know. But what are you gonna do, fire me? You were asleep, anyway."  
  
"You never know. I just might tie you up in a bag and leave you for some bug collector to find."  
  
"Look, the fortress isn't too far ahead. You wanna make it through this razor quarry before nightfall, you'd better hurry." And without a second look, Belle fluttered away. Grumbling, Micah got to his feet and hurried along. 


	5. Blind Fear

They endured the next day with little trouble. The notorious desert faded away after a half hour of travel. Soon after this, a forest sprung up around them, and before they realized what had happened, they were in the middle of a hunter's dream. An elk of immense size galloped past, and on its tail was a hunter on horseback, holding up a spear in anticipation. Micah hid behind a tree, remembering his encounter with the little girl and thinking of how much worse it would be with this skilled huntsman. But the dream soon passed, and they were able to move on.  
  
It was a little before noon. At first, when the desert and the "sky" disappeared, Micah had felt thankful for a sky that didn't hurt to look at, but now, the black sky made him depressed. He trudged along and hung his head, while Belle looked around.  
  
"Hey!" she cried. "Look where we are!"  
  
Micah looked up and nearly fell backwards. The Sword of Illusion's fortress, which had been a distant destination for days, now towered before him. It was breathtakingly enormous.  
  
"I wonder who lives in there," said Belle, as she fluttered ahead to the gate. Then she stopped. "Hey, Micah! Look at this!"  
  
Micah hurried to where Belle bounced around excitedly. There was a tablet of stone before them, which was, suitably, many feet tall. Even so, the writing on it was faded and nearly illegible.  
  
"It doesn't look like Hylian," said Micah. "I can't read it."  
  
"No, but I can," said Belle. She flew close to the worn stone. "'Ye... who... seeks... the... sacred... sword... Take... heed... of this... warning... If thou... are not... the One... then a horrible... spell... shall... be... cast... upon... thy... head.' That's what it says."  
  
Micah gave Belle a strange look. "So you fairies have your own little language, huh?" he said.  
  
"Itcaia vio ovlernyea," said Belle. "Of course we do."  
  
Micah shook his head. He stepped forward, but Belle shrieked, "Don't! What if you aren't the One?"  
  
"That's a risk I passed many trials to take," Micah said, grimly. He continued on, through the gate, down the inner path, and up the steps to the great door.  
  
Belle shivered. "Of all the Kokiri in the forest..." she muttered. She hurried to catch up to him.  
  
The door slammed shut behind them. The main room was huge, and entirely empty. Micah walked forward, his footsteps echoing eerily in the emptiness. He looked at the walls around him. They were all bare. Belle fluttered up behind him.  
  
"Listen," she said.  
  
Micah stood quietly, and listened. The air that, at first, seemed completely quiet carried a low, monotonous stream of hissing. It almost sounded like a crowd of people talking in a very low voice.  
  
"A lot of people have been in here before," Belle said quietly. "The curse has befallen many." She suddenly became tense. She looked over all the walls, frantically shouting, "How are we going to keep going? There are no doors!"  
  
"No," said Micah, holding up the Lens of Truth. "There are."  
  
He walked forward, coming close to the opposite wall, solid and flat. There were no niches or markings of any kind. Yet Micah kept walking forward.  
  
"Ah, Micah, I wouldn't..." Belle started. He was walking straight into a wall!  
  
Then, before Belle's eyes, he passed right through. Belle floated in shock.  
  
"Come on, Belle," came his voice, through the wall. "Don't be afraid."  
  
Hesitantly, Belle crept closer. The wall was inches from her face.  
  
"Keep going," said Micah.  
  
Belle came closer, and touched the wall with her bottom wing. She didn't feel anything. Suddenly, Micah grabbed her wing and dragged her through. She flapped her wings in fury.  
  
"What was that for?!" she cried.  
  
"You took too long," said Micah with a shrug. He walked on.  
  
The next room wasn't quite as large. It was a long hallway, and the floor was missing for almost the entire way. Or rather, seemingly so, for when Micah examined the void with his lens, he saw a path, twisting and turning, all the way across.  
  
Holding the lens in front of him, Micah stepped onto the path. Belle watched from behind. Micah took another step.  
  
He took a few more steps, and soon he was a good distance from the floor. "Oh, wow," said Belle. "You should see what this looks like."  
  
Micah lowered the lens and looked at his feet. His heart quickened when he saw the endless abyss below his feet, and nearly lost his footing.  
  
"Um, ok, maybe it's best if you don't see what it looks like," Belle said quickly. "You'd better keep going."  
  
"That's easy for you to say," Micah grumbled, holding up the lens. "You've got wings, so you don't have to walk on thin air."  
  
Belle flew close to him. "That's why we're called helper fairies, not doer fairies," she remarked. Micah said nothing, concentrating on the path before him.  
  
He finally made it to the opposite end. He breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that he wouldn't have to take the same path on his way out. He threw open the door... solid metal covered with rivets and stains, and not the least bit welcoming... and stepped into the next room.  
  
He gasped as he was bathed in complete darkness. He turned to leave, but the door behind him had melted away. Micah whipped out the Lens of Truth, but it revealed nothing.  
  
The incessant whispers slowly grew louder. Micah felt closeness, even though the room was clearly as large as the ones before it. A whiff of air touched his neck. He spun, but saw nothing. His heartbeat quickened, and he began to feel the dampness of sweat. The whispers continued to grow louder. Soon, they formed an eerie, patterned rhythm, growing louder, and softer, and louder again. It took a while for Micah to realize that the sea of whispers was forming a single voice, which was speaking to him.  
  
"O foolish one who seeks the Sword," they said. "Though you clearly hold the Lens of Truth, these next trials will require skill and perseverance that cannot be aided by any earthly treasure. Only when you have passed these trials will you be granted the honor of joining our chorus by pulling the Sword... Let them begin!"  
  
Micah unsheathed his sword. The chorus laughed, and its voice faded in the darkness.  
  
Silence. Micah looked over his shoulder warily, turned, and looked back, in quick motions, like a rabbit, tensely anticipating its imminent doom. Soon he became aware of a growing murmur in the darkness, quite unlike the supernatural chorus.  
  
A snarl from behind! Micah turned, and for a moment, saw glowing eyes, before they disappeared again. He could hear his heart pounding. As he listened, he could make a distinction between growls... there was more than one creature.  
  
A roar sounded, and Micah felt a whoosh of airflow roughly over his head. He yelled, held up his sword, but in the same instant it was stolen from him, taken by an unseen beast coming from his left. Both threats disappeared again. Micah didn't dare move, even if it meant to remain weaponless. He held his shield out in front of him, but the wooden board strapped to his arm seemed pathetically useless.  
  
The stalking creatures continued to murmur. In Micah's racing mind, he thought that he could now hear at least six creatures, each one darting out occasionally. He turned as if on a pivot, turning to face the creature currently rushing out to taunt him.  
  
A beast darted forward and roared, so close to Micah's ears that it hurt. Micah held out his flimsy shield, expecting the worst, but the creature darted away again. By now he knew what they were doing.  
  
The creatures were testing him... seeing how much he could take, before his own fear overtook his sanity. Micah swallowed hard, determined to keep his cool.  
  
The growls grew fainter. Micah could hear the creatures slowly back away. When they were all a great distance away, they stopped, and simultaneously roared. With a sickening sensation, Micah knew that the creatures could sense that he was on to them.  
  
They charged. In the darkness, Micah could count not six, but eight sets of glowing eyes, all racing toward him at frightening speeds. He squeezed his eyes shut, shutting out the evil eyes, and trying to ignore the unearthly roars.  
  
Just before the beasts collided with him, they disappeared, and in their wake was a spider web so great, that it caught Micah well within its center. Micah could now see a new set of eyes, containing eight shimmering orbs. Instead of vicious roars, he heard a bubbling dribble, coming from the slavering, many jawed mouth of a giant spider. Coming toward him.  
  
Micah struggled wildly, but his fight only tightened the web's grip on him. The spider inched toward him, and as it did, a flash of light appeared between the spider and Micah, revealing the arachnid's hideous features. Its long, hairy legs drew its huge, black body closer, closer to its prey.  
  
Soon, it was standing above Micah. Its dripping jaws widened, intent on Micah's head. He closed his eyes and his mouth. The jaws snapped. 


	6. Thankless Triumph

The attack never came.  
  
Micah opened his eyes. The web was gone, the beasts were gone, and, thankfully, the spider was gone. He sat alone in an empty room, which was now lit. He could see that it was, indeed, very large. He saw his sword lying near a wall. He crawled toward it and, very shakily, sheathed it.  
  
The chorus of whispers could be heard again. "Very good, young one. You've passed the first trial, the trial of fear. Go through the door up ahead, and face the second one." They softened again to an inaudible whisper.  
  
Micah walked toward the opposite door. Timidly, Belle popped out of his pocket.  
  
"I nearly suffered a heart attack," Belle said. "No storyteller in the world could recount such vivid terror."  
  
Micah said nothing for a while. Finally, he said, "You didn't have to come. If you wanted to, you could leave."  
  
"Yeah," said Belle, sinking back into the pocket. "I know."  
  
Through the door was a flight of spiral stairs, covered with red carpet. After ascending the stairs, Micah saw another door. With a deep breath, he went through.  
  
Thankfully, the room was lit. But once the door closed behind him, he was immersed in a perplexing labyrinth. It was a maze, yet every wall was covered with angled mirrors. This created an infinite spiral of misleading paths. Micah stood still, overwhelmed by the many possible paths. He chose a path and followed it, but was instantly lost. He could see the barred door he had come through in fifty mirrors, and his own reflection was in twice that number. He was ready to panic.  
  
But then, he had an idea. It was probably cheating, but it was worth a try. He unsheathed his sword, and, striking the glass wall behind him forcefully, carved a recognizable image... a heart. While he carved, he held out the Lens of Truth, making sure the figure was the same size as the lens. He looked about, and saw the heart reflecting all around him.  
  
He continued on down the path, carving more, easily recognizable figures, into the mirrors around him, making sure that they were all the same size as the Lens of Truth. Finally, he had marked about half of the mirrors in the room. He came back to where he started, and chose a path to walk.  
  
By comparing the sizes of figures in the mirrors to the lens, he could tell which ones were the actual carvings, and which were reflections. Soon, he came to paths where there were no markings. He navigated these, carving more shapes as he went, until he came to the end of the maze.  
  
The voices rose again. "The test of cunning has been passed. Proceed to your third and final challenge," they said.  
  
Micah climbed the next flight of stairs, which were twice as high as the last. Into the next room he walked, and suddenly felt ill, for it was shaped as an arena, with pillars of stone, thick as cedar trees, spaced evenly around the center.  
  
"If you can make it to the door on the other end," the voices said. "You pass the final test." The voices grew quiet again.  
  
Micah walked forward. The voices rose in volume, but continued to rise and did not speak. Finally, Micah had to place his hands over his ears to prevent deafness, and suddenly, they were silent. And that's when it came.  
  
A huge metal shape crashed through the ceiling, showering Micah with bits of marble and steel. He shielded his eyes against the debris, and when he looked, there was, standing before him, a monstrous knight, at least ten feet in height, donned in thick, heavy steel armor, wielding a decorative shield as thick as a wall, and a sword as broad as a pillar.  
  
The knight swung at Micah. Micah ducked, and the sword struck a pillar, shattering the base and toppling the pillar with a tremendous crash. Micah rolled underneath the knight and swung at his backside, but the strike only caused the armor to ring like a bell. The knight turned, and with a roar, charged at him. Micah sidestepped, and the knight crashed into the wall.  
  
It was obviously not very bright, Micah knew, so if he could lure the knight into the opposite wall, he would be able to reach his goal, the door.  
  
The knight broke away from the wall and swung its sword, missed, and swung with its other arm, holding the shield. The shield slammed into Micah's body, forcing the air out of his lungs and sending his frail body sliding across the floor.  
  
The knight took advantage of this, and held its sword over his head, charging. He swung down on Micah, but he rolled out of the wall, and the sword cut deep into the marble floor. Even with the knight's incredible strength, it could not get the sword out immediately, so Micah quickly acted. With a single bound, he climbed onto the knight's back, and with a yell, swung at its head.  
  
The helmet fell to the ground with a crash, and Micah gasped, for there was nothing inside. The knight, whatever it was, was not a living being.  
  
The knight retrieved its sword and began swiping at Micah, who was still clinging to its back. He swung his sword again, cutting off the right arm. At this point, his sword broke at the hilt. The knight grabbed the blade from the floor, and throwing down its shield, began taking wild stabs at Micah with its remaining arm. Micah eyed the knight's severed arm. It still held the broadsword. Micah leapt for it, but it was so heavy that he had to hold it with both arms, and still could barely keep it upright. The knight ran at Micah with the little blade. Micah dodged, getting a mild gash on his left arm as the blade rushed past. The knight collided with another pillar, shattering it on impact. Micah grabbed the sword again, but was still unable to master it. The knight recovered, and with a yell, charged again. Micah charged as well, but the sword was so heavy that he almost lost it. He held it in front of his body like a spear. The knight saw this, but the acceleration of his charge was too great, so he collided with Micah.  
  
The sword ran deep into the knight's chest. It screamed in anguish, a scream that was so shrill and ghastly that it made Micah cringe. It stumbled backwards, the sword still sticking out of its thick armor, and grasped at it in pain. Its remaining armor began to crumble off its body, which, Micah could finally see, was an amorphous ball of gas. The ghosts dispersed, and were gone. The voices began to murmur again.  
  
"You have done well, young one," they said, once they had reached the necessary volume. "To date, no one else has been able to kill the Iron Knuckles. Most just run to the exit once it's out of the way. The trials are passed. Your goal is through that door. The best of luck to you..." And he heard the voices no more.  
  
Micah threw open the door, and was immediately immersed in the master of illusions. It was as if he stood in space. Familiar constellations hung around him in a backdrop of black, yet they were accompanied by millions more stars that could never be seen on Earth. A streak of faded white, the Milky Way, ran down the center, as if it pointed to the only earthly object in the room. A stone pedestal. Thrust deep into the pedestal was a sword, made of the finest steel and decorated with jewelry fit for kings. It shone with a mystical aura, beckoning Micah nearer.  
  
"Wow," whispered Belle. It was truly breathtaking.  
  
Micah looked around. The door behind him was gone. He felt for it, but as he walked toward the wall that he was sure existed, he only journeyed deeper and deeper into the illusion. He turned around. The pedestal was now even farther from him. His heart pounded, his stomach churned, and his mouth went dry. There was no way back; only onward.  
  
Micah stepped up to the pedestal, with great strides that hid his inner fear. As he advanced, the sword's aurora glowed even brighter. Belle cooed softly. Micah swallowed hard. He reached for the sword, shakily. Suddenly, the brilliant blade began to dissolve, as if into dust. Micah's heart raced furiously. What was happening? He wondered. He thought with a sick feeling that Gardorous and the Great Deku Tree were both wrong, that he was not the One. But his hands continued on, ignoring their master's fears. The sword finished dissolving, and it was now a small, wooden, child's play sword. The hands wrapped tightly around the hilt. With a deep breath, Micah pulled.  
  
The sword came free.  
  
He held it aloft his head, and the simple wooden sword became beautiful again, shooting forth a new light, triumphantly proclaiming the coming of the One who would drive back Karod and reclaim the Dream Caster and all 


End file.
